A Kiss Is Not Enough
by bellegunness
Summary: Tate & Violet day dreaming


Vivien and Ben were gone for the day, taking time together for once to attempt to mend the sham of a marriage they had, focusing on shopping for the baby. It was amazing how the promise of a new life threw them into a faux-Disneyland atmosphere where all that mattered was the little one's health. The dead girl buried in the back yard? No biggie. The fact the freak of nature growing inside her was growing at rate that could only be compared to the movie Jack? Who cares. They had Burbank and Anaheim to fill their days with 'fake it til you make it' mentalities, with their 'we live in a house that's trying to kill us but maybe it's all in our mind' facade. The two took any chance they could to get out of the house, each time getting less and less motivated to ask Violet if she'd like to come. Their concerns were with the child growing inside Vivien, not the angsty teenage one they only remembered when it was convenient for them. That, however, was perfectly fine by the young girl.

Days with the parents gone meant days spent with Tate doing whatever she wanted, and that was all she cared about at this point. The pair could spend hours together doing nothing, sitting in silence and existing in their own tiny world, that was Violet's nirvana. No one to bug her about 'girl time', no one to harass Tate about taking his meds, no 'you can't be here!', 'don't see him again!'. No rules. For as rebellious as the teen could be, she did have morals, and while spending time in bed made her heart flutter it rarely lead to anything. This afternoon was one of them, and while the two were sitting side by side, both resting their backs against the head board, they did their respective activities. Tate listening to her Ipod with his eyes closed, hands resting lazily on his stomach, his long calloused fingers randomly tapping the beat to each song he recognized. Violet flipping idly through the pages of a book she'd been forced to read by her English teacher, eyes hungrily taking in the words despite her mind being else where. That's where his genius overpowered her's - they could both be day dreaming, but you wouldn't be able to tell he was up to anything where as with her eyes drifting off the pages was a tell tale sign that she wasn't invested in "Intruder At Dusk".

It would be a lie to say she had gotten used to touching Tate, no one ever gets accustomed to feeling flushed with your heart pumping so hard it threatens to beat out of your very chest. How can anyone fool their mind into believing that goosebumps covering their arms and legs was a comfortable state of being when someone's breath was against an inch of your bare skin? It was his arm resting against hers that had her mind racing this afternoon, despite it being completely harmless it had her teenage hormones screaming for more. Surely if they were animals he would be attempting to mount her with the amount of pheromones she must be secreting. Thankfully the only thing that was really stinking up their space was cigarette smoke.

Cigarette smoke and the way Tate smelled.

The boy probably never wore cologne, she thought, which was fine seeing as she rarely wore perfume. It was overrated, after all, everyone had their own unique scent and that was far more appealing than JLo Glo or D&G Light Blue. Everyone in her stupid school smelled like they bathed in the shit, so much so that walking through the halls required a gas mask and possibly an O2 hook up in class so you wouldn't pass out with all the chemicals wafting in your face. Being with Tate was, yet again, a break from all the bullshit the world had to offer. This version of existence was so much better for this reason, among many others.

Shifting slightly in the bed, Violet turned to reach up and pluck one of the ear buds out of her friend's ear. Friend? Were they more?

"I'm going to get some raspberry green tea, you want anything?"

His head shaking and a quick kiss on her jaw was all Violet needed to get the quick rush of blood to her pale cheeks. How ridiculous was she that such a little action could evoke such a response. Rolling her eyes, Vi tossed her book at the foot of the bed and set off to get a drink. Upon returning, all she could manage was a scoff as she eyed her bed, only half occupied when she left was now showcasing a curled up man. Was this his way of inviting her to lay down with him? It was her bed, she should be inviting him, not the other way around.

"Do you mind?" Her usual bitchy smirk displaying across her lips, it took more effort these days to be her sarcastic self. Especially when Tate was inching more towards charming than wounded.

"Depends, what are you suggesting?" Deadpan. His eyes slowly moved over his friend's body. Her skinny frame was always a point of fascination for him, mostly because it was always hidden behind frumpy, over-sized clothes. Who was he to talk about frumpy, though?

With another roll of her eyes, Violet let him win this one as she crawled into her bed and made herself comfortable, sitting up somewhat with her head against the headboard and her body twisting in what looked awkward and uncomfortable but somehow worked for her. Flipping back to whatever page she had been attempting to read last, her finger faltered as Tate's moved across a bare patch of skin that had been exposed with her moving in bed. The over-sized t-shirt had lifted enough to allow access to a hipbone which he took as an invitation to brush his fingers across before loosely wrapping his arm around Violet's waist.

"You never cease to amaze me." Why couldn't she just say what she was it? Why couldn't she say half the shit she was thinking anymore? More than anything, she wanted to punch him square in the nose for making her this way. Closing her eyes, Vi let her book fall to the wayside as she plucked an ear bud away from Tate and slipped it behind her curtain of hair. She was tired of pretending to read, it was exhausting. A music filled daydream while laying beside her .. man friend? .. seemed far better.

Raspy vocals accompanied by expertly reckless instrumentals played a perfect background for her thoughts. Recalling a handful of times Tate shoved her against a wall brought the weary smirk back to the teens face. Was there anything more delicious than an attractive boy's body pressing you against a wall. A rail. A brick wall. The sand. In her mind, Tate had her against her bathroom sink, thighs against thighs, their height difference making no difference as his crane like neck sunk to meet her mouth. Letting out a breathy sigh, in her mind and in reality, Violet could never get used to how hot his mouth felt against her skin. Was it like this for everyone? She'd never experienced anything moderately sexual before him, and for all she cared, he could be her last. Licking over her lips as his mouth drifted to the nape of her neck, all she could think was how cold the porcelain was against the back of her thighs as Tate's expert fingers roughly drug her skirt up, stopping the bottom of the fabric right before it reached her underwear. Hard kisses accompanied aggressive bites down her clavicle and towards the V of her thin top, his fingers gripping almost too tightly as she was lifted by her hips to rest on the sink edge. Parting her thighs with his legs, she swore she could actually feel the boy's hipbones digging into her inner thighs.

Staring at Violet's closed eyes, Tate couldn't help but grin like an idiot as her face continued to flush as her eyes moved quickly under their respective lids. What was she thinking about? The way she was squirming had him dying to know. Inching closer in bed, he tightened his arm around the girl's waist to bring their bodies closer. Carefully parting her skinny legs with one of his own, he was cautious to not lift his knee too high to her crotch. His eyes fell to her hips as his hand inched up from the small of her back to her hip once more. Lightly running his finger along the top of her jeans, Tate's grin was plastered to his face like a kid on Christmas morning.

Closing his eyes, he gave in to his own fantasy world as well.

With every aspect of his life Tate was brass. Harsh. Aggressive. Reckless. He wasn't one to handle with care, never in his life had he used delicate maneuvers to execute actions, not once. Not until Violet. Despite shoving her against the occasional wall, the boy couldn't help but want to treat this girl like a newborn. It was imperative he cradled things perfectly, otherwise she might threaten to break. In his mind, Tate had light touches, soft caresses and careful manipulations of Violet's fragile body. His eyes fluttered as he shifted in bed, in his mind he had the girl on her back, but he hovered, almost afraid that if his body was pressed against her without prudence that he might crush her. Staring at her slightly parted lips, Tate's heart raced, pumping blood fast and hard to his lower extremities. Warily dragging her dress up her legs and over her torso, he stopped shy of exposing her bra and lowered his body, still pining her carefully against her bed. Placing temperate kisses along her ribcage and down her flat stomach, his breathing grew heavier, in his mind and in reality. His body grew rigid in both worlds as mentally he reached her hips with his mouth. Dragging his tongue against the protruding bone brought a chill to his bone that brought him out of his daydream and ripped his eyes open to Violet's.

"You're sweating." Her words were almost as breathy as those still singing in their ears, her face equally flushed as his as they lay entangled.


End file.
